


it was a full moon that night, too

by littlesaintmick



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Characters to be added, Discussions of Past Abuse, M/M, Tags to be added, i don't know how to label this other than crime drama/mystery/thriller, listen i wasn't even gonna publish this but this seemed like a good idea, nonconsensual drug use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 15:52:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19379899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlesaintmick/pseuds/littlesaintmick
Summary: one cop trying to do the right thing, a man wandering around the street drunk, and a lot of questions.





	it was a full moon that night, too

**Author's Note:**

> YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO POST/REPOST ANY OF THIS FAN WORK, FULL OR IN PART, OR TO USE IT IN VIDEO/DISCUSSION, WHETHER FOR MONETARY GAIN OR NOT. LEGAL ACTION WILL BE TAKEN AGAINST VIOLATIONS.

Roman sighed. Another day, another drunk to take in. Roman stepped out of the car, his hands calm and easy at his sides. He never approached someone with his hand near his gun, especially not random people who were clearly inebriated and probably didn’t know better. This guy-he was tall, with wild red-blond hair, wearing a torn tank top. He was wandering around the street, and Roman looked around. People were passing by him, clearly trying to avoid him, and there was a group of teenagers laughing and antagonizing the man. Roman exhaled through his nose, calmly walking up to the man, speeding up to grab him when he saw the man try and walk into the street, right into traffic. Roman grabbed him around his tiny waist, pulling him back onto the sidewalk.

“Whoa-hold on there, buddy, there’s cars coming.”

The man struggled, but was weak. He turned and Roman finally got a good look at his face; handsome, though his blue eyes were worringly unfocused, bloodshot, darting around, not settling anywhere. 

“Hey-hey, I’m a police officer, I’m here to help you-my name is Roman Reigns. Can you tell me your name?”

“Not-they’re-nn-”

He was slurring and mumbling, fidgeting and swaying on his feet. Roman frowned. This seemed like something a little worse than someone just having had too much to drink. This guy had taken something nasty.

“Hey, buddy, I need you to come with me, alright? I can’t have you wandering around, it’s not safe for you or others.”

The guy still didn’t really…..respond, in any way, but he didn’t struggle or fight as Roman handcuffed him and led him to the squad car, gently maneuvering the man to sit in the backseat. He was still mumbling-Roman caught a few clearly-spoken words; ‘coming’, ‘stop’, ‘promise’, ‘stop’ a few more times. Roman couldn’t be sure of what those meant, but they did make him even more sure that something had happened to the guy, rather than the guy just having drank too much. He took a deep breath as he got in the front seat, driving back to the station, listening to the man in the backseat talking. He didn’t stop, and he shifted around until he could lay down, the top half of his body uncomfortably shoved on the seat. 

He at least continued to not fight Roman as he was led into the station, into the thankfully empty cell. It was only ten on a Thursday morning; there weren’t many drunks in the tank right now. Roman sat back down at his desk, jumping a little when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“What you bring in, Reigns?”

Bill sat at his desk, directly shoved up against Roman’s, as easygoing as ever. 

“Oh-got a call about this guy who was drunk, walking around, freaking people out. He didn’t give me any problems, but…..I don’t know.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“It’s just-he seemed a little-I don’t think he just drank. Something was really off about how he was moving and talking, and-he said a few things that-I don’t know.”

Bill raised an eyebrow.

“All you can do is follow up with him when he gets his wits about him. Take him in one of the back rooms, try and get him to talk.”

Roman nodded. That really was all that he could do at this point. The guy hadn’t had any identification on him, and he was still completely out of it, so Roman couldn’t even find out his name. It was just a waiting game now.

Roman did go back to the cell every fifteen minutes, making sure the man was alright and still breathing, that he was recovering alright. He made sure to make him drink water, which he wasn’t really able to do at first-he kept trying to talk while Roman held the bottle of water up to his lips, but after a while, he was able to focus on the task and actually drink. It was a few more hours still before he spoke a clear, coherent sentence; Roman’s shift was almost over, but he wasn’t about to leave this man alone. He was bringing him another bottle of water and walked into the cell to see him sitting, leaning forward, his head cradled in his hands.

“Sir?”

“Thanks for the water.”

His voice was rough, raspy, and more tired than Roman had ever heard anyone sound, but he was speaking clearly. 

“Oh-it’s no problem. What’s your name, buddy?”

The guy sighed, taking the bottle of water out of Roman’s hand, not looking up. 

“Dean-Dean Ambrose. Do-you need my full name?”

“To make sure you know who you are, yes.”

“Dean Abraham Ambrose. My birthday is-December seventh. Uh-sorry I don’t got ID or anything. Uh-it was-I got-”

Dean’s breathing had picked up, and Roman kneeled in front of him, one hand gently resting on Dean’s knee.

“Hey, hey-Dean, calm down, breath with me, okay? Just breathe with me.”

Roman did some breathing exercises he had learned from a therapist, and Dean hesitated before following along. He did calm down, thankfully, and Roman smiled up at him. He didn’t want him to be afraid or intimidated.

“Why don’t you come with me to a different room, something more private, so you can get comfortable and we can talk there?”

Dean nodded, walking by Roman’s side to the room. It was a break room, a nice, quiet, comfortable space with the best couch to sleep on. Dean sat on one end of the couch, while Roman sat on the other.

“So, Dean, can you tell me a little about how you ended up wandering the street?”

“Uh…..y-yeah, I guess-um-”

Dean wiped the back of his hand over his nose, sniffling, and he took a deep breath.

“I-I used to work for these people-I don’t-I left ‘em years ago, I ain’t done anything for them in a long time so-I don’t wanna get arrested for saying this-”

“I just want to know what happened. That’s all. I can’t even say you being publicly intoxicated is a crime until I find out how it happened, and-it seems like something happened to you.”

Dean shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked cold, and Roman frowned. 

“Hold on a for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

Roman quickly ran to his desk, grabbing the hoodie he kept for when he was just sitting around in the office. He brought it back to the room and held it out to Dean.

“Here. I should’ve brought you something to wear earlier.”

Dean shrugged again, putting on the jacket. He relaxed almost immediately, pulling it tight around himself and pulling the sleeves down over his hands. He squeezed his eyes shut, and made a quiet humming sound.

“‘s okay. Thanks.”

Roman sat again, and Dean brought his knees up to his chest. 

“I-they were criminals. The people I worked for. Like-they were on some mafia shit-”

“Organized crime?”

“Yeah, and-everyone knew ‘em as The Authority-they did a lot of shit-drugs, influencing, threatening people. Killed some people, too, but-that wasn’t my job.”

“What was your job?”

“Intimidation, mostly. I don’t look like much, but-they always told me my crazy was scary enough that it didn’t matter. ‘m kind of-kind of a violent guy. Had some anger issues for a real long time-guess I still do, but I was working on it. Um….I also-I delivered shit, was a bodyguard for some of the bigger names in the Authority sometimes. I was kind of their ‘do whatever’ guy, you know? Sometimes I’d go spy on people for ‘em. I’d handle smaller deals. Fixed someone’s kitchen sink once.”

Dean was rambling, a bit, but Roman wasn’t about to stop him. This was all valuable information, and really….Dean just seemed to need to tell someone this.

“What made you leave their organization?”

Dean pulled the hoodie tighter around himself, sniffling a little. He was quiet for a second. Roman waited. 

“Uh-they-they wanted me to start killin’ people-and I told ‘em-I told ‘em right at the start that I wasn’t gonna kill anyone innocent, I didn’t-I can do a lot but I didn’t want that on my conscious-I know with all I done I ain’t going to Heaven, but-didn’t wanna get that deep into Hell. Um-and-this guy they wanted me to kill-”

Tears fell from his pretty blue eyes, and Roman grabbed a box of tissues, holding it out to Dean. Dean just wiped at his tears with the sleeve of the hoodie, and Roman felt a deep-set pain at the way Dean’s bottom lip was trembling, how he was clearly trying not to cry. 

“If you need to stop for a while-”

Dean shook his head, messy red hair bouncing. 

“No-should just get it all out now. Um-this guy was-he was real nice, and he never did anything to anyone, he’s just a nice guy who believed in something they didn’t and was getting popular with people-”

Roman frowned. 

“Are you talking about Senator Bryan?”

Dean nodded. Roman inhaled sharply through his nose; Senator Daniel Bryan had been elected five years ago, winning after surviving an assassination attempt. No one was ever caught for the attempt, and that had always stuck in the back of Roman’s mind-he had only just joined the force then, had been nowhere near the case, but still. It stuck. 

“So-the Authority was behind that? Trying to kill Bryan?”

Dean nodded.

“Yeah. They wanted someone else to win. Uh-I didn’t-I didn’t wanna kill him-I mean, shit, if they’d told me to off some fucking child molester or rapist, I probably woulda done it, but….Bryan’s a good guy. He only wanted to make things better for everyone, I-I checked into him for months before they tried-he really never hurt nobody. I couldn’t-I couldn’t do it, I told ‘em-”

He swallowed, and Roman held out the bottle of water to him again. He took it, swallowing down all of what was left, before taking a deep breath.

“I told them I wasn’t gonna kill anyone like that. I told ‘em-said if they want me to kill some bad people, then I could maybe reconcile my conscious with that, but-they beat me half to death and left me in front of my house. Then they burned my house down.”

“Christ.”

Dean’s lip twitched up. 

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I thought at the time. Uh….since then-they come after me occasionally, you know? Just-every year, I’ll get something in the mail. They try to bring me back, when I don’t respond, they threaten me. Put a bomb in my car once. Had someone come beat on me a few times.”

“You never came to the police?”

Dean looked Roman in the eye, for just about the first time, and Roman went still. That look made him feel like he needed to be still. 

“No. Couldn’t. They got cops in their pocket.”

Roman inhaled sharply again; he’d had no idea that he had coworkers who’d do that. He’d known some real assholes in the department, cause assholes tended to want to become cops, but...he didn’t realize the severity.

“Could-could you provide the names of the officers?”

“Five years ago, yeah. But they cycle officers through precincts pretty often, move them to different nearby states, then move them back. Don’t know who-don’t know if there’s anyone trustworthy here.”

The implication, and look, was clear. 

Roman swallowed. 

“I know-I know you can’t trust me when I say this-but I’m not-I wouldn’t do that. I do my job because I wanna help people and protect them, and-I can’t imagine-”

Roman didn’t really know what else to say. The only way he could convince Dean would be to prove it to him, through actions. Through helping him.

“I can’t trust that, but-you really don’t seem like the kind of guy to be on the take. I don’t know why I think that-but….yeah. You said your name was-uh-”

“Roman Reigns.”

“Roman. Thank you for-for listening and everything.”

Roman swallowed, watching Dean, shifting in his seat a little.

“You still haven’t mentioned what happened to you recently. Was-were you out in the street because of them?”

Dean nodded.

“They-uh…..they came to my house-said they just wanted to talk. No trying to get me to work for them, no-no violence, they just….I was stupid and went with them cause I thought maybe they’d-changed or something. Fucking idiot-knew they weren’t gonna-”

“Hey, it wasn’t stupid. You’re not stupid. Don’t think about anything but what happened, okay?”

Dean took a few deep breaths-the exercise Roman had had him do earlier-and nodded.

“Okay. Okay. I went with them-they took me to a building they own, and just...we sat down and drank, I just-I shouldn’t have taken the drinks but I did, I didn’t even realize...I just-”

Dean’s face crumpled then, and fresh tears spilled down his cheeks.

“-I missed them, I’d missed them cause they were like family but they-I shouldn’t miss ‘em but I did-”

God. These people had really done a number on Dean, who-from what Roman could tell-was a pretty sweet guy. He swallowed and moved closer on the couch, not by a lot, but enough to catch Dean’s attention. 

“It’s not stupid of you to miss them. A lot-a lot of times, when you’ve been abused or hurt or traumatized by someone-even if they turned out to be toxic, if they were like family to you, especially for a long period of time….you’re going to miss them. It’s normal and even after years of therapy, some people will still miss their abusers. You’ve done everything you can to avoid them, and you never went back to them. Dean-from what you’ve told me, you’ve really tried to get past that point in your life and tried to do better. You should feel proud of that, of yourself.”

Dean was still crying, his jaw set and his lips still wobbling, but he sniffled quietly. 

“Uh…...no one’s ever said that to me-”   
Roman smiled.

“Well...I’m saying it now. You should be proud of how far you’ve come from working with those people. Just cause you miss them sometimes, or remember good times with them, that doesn’t mean that all that work is for nothing or that leaving them was the wrong decision.”

Dean wiped his face with the sleeves again, and huffed out a small laugh.

“Man-if all the cops I’d ever dealt with had been like you, I’d probably like cops a lot more.”

“I’m far from perfect, but...I do want to help. I wish more of my coworkers-nevermind.”

Dean stared at him for a moment.

“They drugged me. A lot. Don’t know what with, but-my body hurts, I’m sore-don’t know what they did to me, but I still feel like shit.”

Roman swallowed. He hated asking about this, but he knew he had to.

“Dean…..do you think they may have-I don’t know the exact nature of your relationships with these people, but….if I were to take you to a hospital, do you think they’d need to do a rape kit?”

Dean’s wasn’t visibly shocked by the question, and he simply sighed. 

“Yeah, probably. I wasn’t-I didn’t really have sex with anyone in the Authority while I was working for them, but….I mean-they’re not really above using sex crimes to get a point across.”

“That’s….really worrying, Dean.”

“I guess. I really-I mean-I don’t feel anything-like anything is wrong with any of my bits, but I’ve only really been coherent for the past half hour, so-”

Roman sat back on the couch, huffing out a breath. He scrubbed his hands over his face and looked at Dean.

“You should probably go to a hospital and make sure that you aren’t-that they didn’t do anything to you, and that whatever they drugged you with will run out of your system soon-”

Roman stood, smiling down at Dean. 

“C’mon. I’ll go with you.”

Dean got up, a little shaky and unsteady, and looked up at Roman through his bangs.    
“You really aren’t-you’re really a good guy, huh?”

Roman shrugged.

“I’m just a guy.”

\---

Hospital waiting rooms were absolutely fucking horrible. No matter why he was there. Roman hated them. When he was an EMT, he at least was  _ doing _ something whenever he was in a hospital. But now, as he waited for the doctor to call him back in, he just couldn’t stand it. He wanted to know if Dean was okay, and not knowing was causing him no shortage of anxiety. It had been an hour and a half, and he was worried. Not necessarily about how long it was taking, just...Dean was back there alone, and Roman wasn’t sure if that was best for him right now. The guy had been through a lot, possibly more than Roman knew. 

His shift had ended three hours ago, but he didn’t want to go home until Dean was safe. Roman couldn’t stop thinking over all of what he’d been told. He’d never heard of the Authority, not by that name at least-he knew there was some kind of organized crime in the area, people that influenced the politics in the state, things like that, but he hadn’t known the severity, nor that there were corrupt cops. 

Well, he’d always known that some cops around him were corrupt, but not in the sense of being members of or adjacent to organized crime. 

He thought back to Senator Bryan’s case. It really had always nagged at him, but he’d never been allowed to look into it. It was above his pay grade. Literally. And he’d let it quiet in his head over the past few years, but he wondered now if he could get this the proper attention. Could he find who was responsible and bring charges on them? There wasn’t really a statute of limitations on attempted murder, not an attempted murder like this case. 

“Officer Reigns?”

Roman looked up. A nurse was waiting at the door to the exam rooms. He stood and followed her to where a doctor was standing. 

“So what’s up? Is he hurt at all?”

“Well, we found some pretty strong sedatives in his blood, but only trace amounts. They’ve worked their way out of his system for the most part by now, and-we did find antipsychotics in his system, but in the amounts we’d see in anyone who was regularly prescribed them. It looks like he didn’t drink a lot but he did consume a….truly incredible amount of sedative drugs.”

“Will he be okay?”

“Yes, if he rests for a few days. He can’t over-exert himself right now. As long as he eats and stays hydrated though, he’ll be fine. He seems to-he seems to bounce back pretty well.”

Roman took a deep breath. 

“Did-was there anything else?”

“I did a basic examination, and to answer your question, I found no evidence of sexual assault. No tearing, no fluids, though he does have a lot of bruises, all consistent with him struggling against restraints and being held.”

“Okay. So-nothing serious, that you can tell?”

“No, not that I can tell. But he needs to have someone with him for a few days.”

“I’ll take care of it. Thank you.”

The doctor let Roman into the room, and he saw Dean, sitting up on the exam table, Roman’s hoodie still tight around him. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Did the doctor tell you everything?”

Dean sighed and nodded. 

“Yeah. Said I gotta take it easy, stay hydrated, eat a lot. Gotta be-fucking monitored, I guess.”

“Do you have someone you can stay with?”

Dean kicked his feet back and forth and shrugged.    
“Um….not really. Don’t-I don’t really have any. Friends, or anything. Family’s all-no. Don’t really have anyone.”

Roman chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment. 

“I-if you want….if you’d be okay with it-you could stay with me?”

Dean blinked at him. It was the second time they’d made eye contact since Dean had become coherent. 

“Oh. Uh-you really wanna take an ex-mobster into your house, dude?”

Roman shrugged. 

“I mean. We could go to a hotel if you want, but-I just wanna make sure you’re safe. I can take a few days to work from home, maybe look into your case some more. I-”

Roman blushed, smiling a little at himself and how ridiculous he’d probably sound.

“-I haven’t actually...really used any vacation days for about three years, so I think my boss would be okay with some time off.”

“Dude. I’m gonna tell you to take time off just to fuckin’-shit, dude, go to the Grand Canyon or something, ride a donkey, you need a vacation more than I do.”

Roman laughed. He liked Dean so far, and he didn’t think he’d mind having him in close quarters for a few days. 

It didn’t really hurt that Dean was really,  _ really _ good looking, but Roman wasn’t going to think about that right now, not until he got Dean safe and away from the Authority.

“I….if you really mean it, I-I mean-got a couch?”

“Guest room.”

“Ooh, fancy.”

Roman rolled his eyes, but Dean actually smiled. It wasn’t a huge smile, but it was real and made little dimples show on his cheeks, and Roman figured that an actual smile was a good sign going forward. 

\---

Dean’s house was….a bit of a wreck. 

It wasn’t very big and the outside looked somewhat dilapidated, but once they got inside, it wasn’t quite as bad. Not very organized, and there was a lot of random collections of things, but there was a cute sort of eclectic-ness to it. They had stopped there to get some of Dean’s things before going to Roman’s house, and Roman had been a little shocked when Dean had invited him in. He didn’t seem very trusting of people, but Roman wanted to prove that he was someone who would help Dean, not hurt him. 

Dean stood in the corner of the living room, and Roman watched as he got a concentrated look on his face. He started walking forward and counting while he did, before stopping at six paces. He grabbed a little folding knife from a shelf on the wall and tapped the wall with his finger. He started cutting a straight line into it, and Roman tilted his head.

“What are you doing?”

Dean didn’t answer, he just continued cutting out a square of drywall. He carefully pulled it out and Roman watched, intrigued and honestly a little impressed, as Dean pulled out a bag. He went and sat on the couch, setting the bag on the table in front of him. He opened it, emptying the contents; a manila folder, a wallet, a few stacks of money, a knife, ammunition, and a gun. Dean started checking through the papers in the folder, and Roman came and sat on the couch next to him.

“Documents?”

“Mhm. I have my original birth certificate and shit in here, but I have some forged ones too-uh-”

Roman looked at Dean and saw his blue eyes had gone wide. Roman’s brow furrowed, then he laughed.

“Oh! Don’t-don’t worry, I’m a cop, but I’m not gonna arrest you for having fake papers-I mean-not after hearing your story, bud-”

Dean’s round, cute cheeks flushed and he smiled.

“Wasn’t really thinking. You’re nicer than any cop I’ve ever met, so-guess I kinda forgot that you are one-”

He went back to looking through the papers, through the wallet-there were a few IDs and credit cards, and Roman huffed out a laugh.

“You’ve really prepared yourself for this.”

“It’s not-I mean, it ain’t just for in case of the Authority. Made a lot more enemies than I have friends, so….it’s just good to have a plan in place no matter what.”

Roman had a thought, then, of how….really sad it must be to live like that. To always be ready to be on the run, to always have people after you, having to look over your shoulder every day. And something else occurred to Roman, and he frowned.

“So...the doctor said there were antipsychotics in your system, too.”

He heard Dean swallow.

“Uh...yeah. I have-I have schizophrenia, and-a couple months ago, I started taking medication for it-missed my therapy appointment yesterday, now that I think about it.”

“Do-does the Authority know where you go to therapy? And where you get your meds?”

Dean looked at him, brow furrowed, pink lips drawn into a frown. 

“I-probably, didn’t really think about that-do you think they coulda done something to my pills?”

The idea clearly was about to send Dean into a panic, and Roman reached out, gently grabbing his hand, getting him to make eye contact. 

“Hey-while I’m not going to rule out the possibility, because, from what you’ve told me, they’re willing to go to pretty awful lengths-we don’t know for sure that anything was tampered with. If you want, we can call your doctors and get you transferred to someone else until this is settled. I have a friend who’s a therapist who could write you prescriptions, and you could get it from my pharmacy. In the meantime, I can send one of your pills to a friend in the department who can test it to see if it’s what it’s supposed to be, alright?”

Dean looked away, rocking back and forth a little, drawing into himself. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Helpin’ me. I’m not-world’d probably be better off without me anyway, I don’t see why you’re so intent on keeping me safe-”

Roman bit the inside of his lip, and leaned back on the couch. 

“I mean…..I can’t say it’s my job, since cops-they don’t really do that a whole lot, but-it’s what I want to do. It’s what I’ve dedicated my whole life to doing. I’m supposed to help people who have been wronged and hurt, and you’ve been wronged and hurt, so….yeah. I don’t wanna see anyone be in the position that you’re in, and you’re-you seem like a nice guy, but even if you weren’t, it’s still the right thing to do.”

Dean rocked a little slower, calming down. 

“.....Don’t really-I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone who just wants to help people like that.”

Roman shrugged. 

“I think there’s lots of people who do that, just...I think maybe you’ve had some bad luck with people.”

Dean snorted and laughed, and Roman felt like he’d finally relaxed, which made Roman drop his own tension in response. 

“You want some help getting your stuff together?”

“Actually, um-”

Roman tilted his head, watching Dean’s cheeks flush pink.

“-could-I know we don’t know each other real closely or anything, but-can you just-I guess keep talking to me? You’re kinda-I keep wanting to freak out, but you and me just talking helps me….not...do that.”

“Yeah, man, I’d be happy to.”

Roman sat on the couch as Dean went around the living room, picking various things up and out of seemingly random places; Roman realized this place only seemed disorganized to him, but Dean knew where everything was.    
“How long have you been a cop?”

“About six years, almost seven.”

“How old are you?

“Thirty-one. You?”

Dean paused for a second.

“Uh-twenty-nine, pretty sure. What did you do before all this?”

“EMT and paramedic.”

Dean turned and shot Roman a look.

“So you really have just always been like that?”

Roman shrugged again, smiling.

“Yeah. You’re…..you’re gonna laugh at me, but I was a lifeguard for three years, too.”

“Oh my God, you fucking saint.”

They both laughed, and Roman found it was just very easy to talk to Dean. They kept talking about life and everything in it as Dean packed; Roman followed Dean into his bedroom and sat on his bed while he put clothes in a duffle bag, a few things from his bathroom. He found out that Dean dropped out of high school, but only because school was incredibly boring and stressful for him, that he grew up in a single-parent household, that he really likes Ohio sports teams, and that he can’t stand quinoa or flax seed. 

“I just don’t get some of that health food shit, dude-but those fuckin’ things just have the worst texture ever-”

“I don’t really disagree, but it’s hard to notice them in like, smoothies and shit-”

“Wouldn’t you notice it more, though? Since smoothies are like a drink?”

“I never have, but I’m not super sensitive to food textures.”

“Yeah, well, me and my fuckin’ autism-”

Roman blushed, kicking his feet a little.

“Uh-actually-I’m autistic, too.”

Dean stopped as he was zipping up his duffle bag.

“Oh. That-cool.”

He sounded like he genuinely thought it was cool that Roman and him had something in common, and Roman smiled. 

“I am crazy sensitive to light and certain sounds, though.”

“Do you have any, like-touching issues, with certain textures?”

“Oh, God, yeah, I had to get a special jacket made with my precinct’s logo and everything cause the one they gave me just-thought I was gonna break out in fucking hives-”

“Was it that really rough, heavy-”

“Yes! Oh my God, it was awful!”

They both started laughing, and it made Roman feel warm, to see Dean as relaxed as he was. He knew they were going to have to head out soon, and he was only more pleased with the idea of Dean staying with him the more time they spent together, though he still absolutely hated the reason why it was happening.

\---

Dean’s eyes were wide when he first walked into Roman’s house, and Roman felt weirdly self-conscious. 

“It’s...everything is so bright-”

That was very true. Roman hated neutral colors, and he had been ecstatic when he finally owned a home and was able to paint. His living room was all bright, saturated blues and oranges and yellows and white to balance it out. 

“Yeah, uh-muted colors make my eyes sad, you know?”

“I like it. ‘s pretty.”

“C’mon, I’ll show you around.”

He showed Dean the kitchen-and told him he was allowed to help himself to anything there-and the bathroom, and then to the guest room, helping Dean carry his things there and setting them near the bed. 

“I’ll grab some blankets and sheets and stuff, and you can decide-I don’t know which textures are bad for you, so you can pick-and I have some towels that I think are great, but tell me if they’re not gonna work for you. Does take-out sound good for dinner?”

“Yeah, sure-uh-I’m allergic to pineapples, but anything other than that, I’m good.”

“Awesome. If you wanna shower, feel free.”

“God-that sounds really nice, I feel-”

Dean made a face and shook his hands.

“-grimy. I feel grimy.”

Roman laughed and grabbed a towel from the hallway closet, holding it out and letting Dean touch it to make sure it was alright. He headed off to the bathroom and Roman ordered….so much food, from multiple places, and went to his own room, dialing up his boss while changing his clothes.

‘ _ Hello, Roman. How are things with that young man you arrested earlier _ ?’

“They’re going good, but….we got a lot to talk about. I’m not charging him with anything, cause-Mark, this is...this is something pretty big, and-he’s staying with me.”

Mark was silent for a long moment. 

_ ‘You...brought him home with you? _ ’   
“He didn’t have anywhere else to go and no one to help him, I wasn’t-not with what’s going on, I wasn’t gonna leave him.”

‘ _ Are you going to be safe _ ?’

Roman pulled on sweatpants and a tank top, shaking all his limbs and humming, stretching and flexing his hands a few times.

“Yeah, but I need you to come over tomorrow so we can talk about this and he can tell you what’s up. And-I was wondering if I could take some time off? I’ll work from home as much as I can, but-”

‘ _ Just take the vacation, son. You’ve got enough time saved up to take a damn sabbatical _ .’

Roman laughed. 

“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

‘ _ Stay safe, Reigns _ .’

“Stay safe, Calloway.”

Roman took the phone off of speaker and hung up, heading to the living room again to wait for the food. He turned the tv on, looking through a few different things before he heard the shower turn off. Dean sat down next to him, wearing a big hoodie and pajama pants and thick socks. 

“You cold?”

“Kinda, but I usually am. It’s no big. What’re you watching?”

“Don’t know yet. You got a preference?”

“Uh...nothing scary, or-with lots of violence?”

“Disney movies?”

“You really just keep coming out with shockers, huh?”

Roman grinned at Dean. 

“I try to stay a little unpredictable.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but he was smiling and happy.

“Not the one with the puppet boy. That shit was freaky.”   
“That’s how I feel about the witch from Snow White.”   
Dean shivered. 

“Ugh. Don’t remind me of that.”

Roman put on a movie and got up as needed to get food as it was delivered, and made sure Dean had a big glass of water to drink from. He was gonna do his best to make sure Dean recovered from the past day and that he had the strength to deal with whatever trouble his ex-employers may cause. But, in the meantime, he tried to relax and put that out of his mind, focusing on Dean. He figured calling whatever was between them ‘friendship’ might be jumping the gun a little bit, but he also figured that shouldn’t stop him from enjoying whatever it was between them.


End file.
